


Happy Xmas (War is Over)

by flibbertygigget



Series: Vietnam War AU [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Historically Accurate Shittiness, Mild Angst, Vietnam War, War Injuries, Yoko Ono Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: After a few bars of Yoko Ono's screeching, Alex turned off the radio in disgust. The war wasn't over, not by a long shot. The man lying in the hospital bed in front of him was evidence enough of that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a longer Vietnam War AU in this fandom, but for now, here's a vaguely Christmas related fluffy angsty mess. The characters may not be mine, but the hatred for "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" sure is. Set in December 1972.

Yoko Ono was screeching from the radio that played softly by Aaron Burr's bedside. A few bars into the chorus, and Alex turned it off in disgust. The war wasn't over, not by a long shot. The man lying in the hospital bed in front of him was evidence enough of that.

"If you keep glaring at me like that, I'm going to start thinking I've done something wrong," Aaron muttered. Alex jumped.

"Aaron! I didn't realize you were awake!" Alex vibrated on the edge of the hard plastic hospital seat. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got my leg blown off," Aaron said. He was obviously trying for dry humor, but it came out sad and resigned. "The doctor said that, with any luck, I'd be out by Christmas, but I'm not so sure about that."

"Of course you'll be out by Christmas! You have to be; this room is way too small to fit a Christmas tree." Aaron rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue.

"Why'd you turn the radio off?" he said. "I would've thought that you'd turn it to some news show, but it's too quiet here to have it off entirely."

"Sorry," Alex muttered, turning the radio back on, silently thanking whatever powers were out there that it was Eartha Kitt and not John Lennon that crooned from the speakers.

"That John Lennon song was playing again, wasn't it?" Aaron said knowingly. Alex opened his mouth to protest. "Look, you don't have to turn it off every time it comes on. It's better than the Beach Boys' attempt at a Christmas song."

"I just - I don't like it," Alex said. "I mean, I know it's supposed to be a protest song, but... I don't know. At least other protest songs don't try to pretend that the war doesn't exist. Besides, it has Yoko Ono on it."

"Well, I won't argue with trying to avoid Yoko Ono whenever possible," Aaron said. "But, seriously, you don't have to pretend not to like a song on my account."

"It's not about you, Burr! God!" Alex snapped. He got up from the stupid chair and stared out the window at the snow that was gently falling. "It's just... I can't fucking stand that preachy asshole. 'War is over if you want it?' Give me a break. Nobody wants this war, not even LBJ, but we can't do a damned thing about it." He turned to look at Burr. "If the war was over, you'd have both your legs."

"Alex, I volunteered," Aaron said. "You can't blame the draft or - or whatever you want to blame for this, and you definitely can't blame John Lennon."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have had to volunteer if there wasn't a war. And, no, don't tell me that that's the opposite of the meaning of volunteer; I know that. But you felt obligated to do it for one reason or another." Alex paused. "Why'd you do it, Aaron? You were in college! You were planning on going to law school! There was no reason for you to go and try to get yourself killed!" By the end Alex was shouting, screaming, begging Aaron for an answer. Aaron stared at the wall, still, silent.

"I don't know why I did it," he said at last. "Or - I know, I just don't understand myself anymore. I thought - I thought about everything you and your friends were saying in the protests, about how the draft and draft exemptions were unfair to the working class and stuff like that. I just thought... maybe I could change that, somehow. Maybe if I volunteered, some other kid wouldn't have to get drafted. It didn't work, of course," he said sheepishly. "I get that now. I wasn't - I was just a cog in their war machine out there. But I really did think..."

"God, Aaron," Alex said, mouth open.

"I know. It was stupid. I should have just stayed."

"I can't believe that, for once in your life, you went with your ideals."

"Yeah, and look at were that gets me," Aaron snorted, gesturing at his leg. Alex shifted uncomfortably.

"You still tried," he said. "That's more than I can say. After all the protests I've led and hours I've spent in jail, what have I really been able to change? Nothing. And then there's you, Mr. War Hero over here. You make me want to salute."

"Well, unfortunately not a lot of people feel the same way as you do," Aaron said.

"What?"

"Do you think I haven't heard the stories? I'm sure many of them are exaggerated, but, well, I _know_ that I wasn't imagining the nurses calling this the 'Baby Killer Hospital.' I imagine that once I get out, it won't get any better. After all, my Purple Heart isn't exactly inconspicuous."

"God, Aaron, I'm so sorry," Alex said.

"It's not your fault. You weren't the one to say it. Besides, it's not like they said it to my face." Aaron paused. "I'm just... I worry, okay? It's what I do. At least I volunteered for this, but I suspect that some people won't care that a lot of the people out there didn't have a choice. The draft took them in whether they wanted it to or not."

"I'm going to get those nurses fired!"

"Don't, Alex. It's not worth it." Alex rolled his eyes and reached for the notebook that he always carried with him, ready to write something that would utterly destroy anyone who dared talk smack about his friend, but Aaron grabbed his wrist. "Don't, or I won't be joining you for Christmas."

"Please. Where else would you go?"

"I could just stay here," Aaron said. Alex looked like another proxy war had just been proclaimed. "But, no, seriously. Don't publish anything stupid. You can - If you see anyone being rude to 'Nam vets, you can intercede, but don't attach something like this to your name forever."

"Better than being known as the King's College Protester for the rest of my life," Alex muttered.

"Seriously? You have a protester nickname?"

"Yeah. I was in this picture that got on the front page of the _New York Post_. It was kind of a big deal. Where were you, under a rock?"

"Vietnam," Aaron said, but his deadpan finally sounded deadpan instead of desperate, so Alex counted it as a win. Alex opened his mouth to say something clever, but suddenly the radio began to play the beginning of "Happy Xmas" again.

"I swear to God, I will burn every copy of that single!" Alex shouted as he slammed the power button on the radio. For the first time since he had woken up in the hospital without his leg, Aaron Burr laughed.


End file.
